Trick
by KeiranEmrys
Summary: The Starfleet Annual Halloween Party. Attendance, optional. Candy, optional. Costumes, mandatory. Kirk/Spock. Sulu/Chekov.


It's the annual Starfleet Halloween Party. Attendance, optional. Candy, optional. Costumes, mandatory. This is one of those times when Spock really, really regrets that he remained friends with Nyota after they broke up.

"Come on, Spock. I don't why you just won't wear it?"

Spock sent a glare at the communications officer. Of course it was subtle and in no way did it actually look like a glare, except to her that is. "I find the wearing of a costume to be a most illogical practice. Why would I want to 'play dress up' in order to attend a social gathering, which I believe I stated a dislike towards in the first place?"

Nyota rolled her eyes and held up the gold shirt more insistently. "You promised we could go together. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about costume part, but since you already promised, that's that. You're going. Now put this on already so I can fix your hair and ears."

She shoved the shirt at his chest and gave him a pointed look. He sighed and relented. He had yet to meet anyone who could say no to Nyota Uhura. Grumbling and glaring—though he would never admit it—Spock pulled the shirt over his head and settled down his chair. Nyota wasted no time and immediately started slicking back his hair. It looked odd, plastered to his head like that; it made his ears stand out even more.

For the moment she left the hair like that and reached for the table to her side. She had what looked like flaps of skin in her hands. Carefully she painted one side of each flap and placed each on the slopes of his pointed ears. She gently patted them down to make sure that were in the right position.

"Okay. Now I can't make your ear completely round like a human's or else you would end up with elephant ears. But I think that will do just fine."

She picked up a small container that looked to be filled with a skin-colored substance. It turned out to be a make-up similar to foundation. She took great care to make sure the prosthetics blended correctly with the skin-tone of his ears. With that done she dropped everything back on the table.

"Alright. Now for the hair."

With a flourish she pulled a blond wig out of what seemed to be nowhere. She fitted it to his head, adjusting it this way and that, trying to make it look as natural as possible. She clicked her tongue, apparently satisfied with her work and walked around to stand in front of Spock. She brought a hand up to her face and tapped her mouth.

"Hm. There's something missing…" She trailed off as her eyes lit up. She snapped her fingers and walked across the room to the bag she had brought with her. Spock tried his best not to run to the bathroom to see the damage. He very nearly gave into the urge to run when she returned from her rummaging. She held out a small case to him.

"Here, put these in. I got them from Dr. McCoy so they won't hurt your eyes."

Without much fuss—though he would greatly love to throw a fit right now—he did as he was told. When he looked up and met Nyota's eyes, her eyebrows went up.

"Is something wrong, Nyota?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. "Well, no it's just… You look – different. With blue eyes I mean. It's kind of creepy actually." (1)

One of Spock's eyebrows went up. "Of course it would look different, and perhaps a bit 'creepy' if my eyes were to suddenly shift from brown to blue. Not only is it a dramatic change, but you also have always known my eyes to be dark. To suddenly see a light pigment on my iris would be quite a shock I'd assume."

She threw him a dirty look. Of course he had to go and be all scientific about it. Shaking her head she went back to her bag and pulled out a long, shimmering outfit. (2) Spock's eyebrow went up as he looked pointedly at the costume. "What are you going as?"

Uhura just smiled and walked into the bathroom to get changed. Spock did not sigh; no he did not. He also did not slump in his seat and bemoan his current state and the Halloween party that was a mere thirty two point four five minutes away.

* * *

"Pavel, I – I just don't know…" Sulu looked down at himself and almost blanched at the blue and pink monstrosity. How the fuck did he let himself get talked into this? Oh that's right he was drunk and he had stupidly made a stupid fucking bet with his fucking boyfriend who just happened to be so stupid fucking smug right now. Smug, and about to burst out laughing.

"Oh, HIikaru. You look – lovely." The young navigator couldn't hold back his giggles any more. Sulu glared, he glared hard. But it was really difficult to be menacing when you were dressed in a blue and pink fairy princess costume, complete with the sparkly wings. (3)

"Pavel! I don't care that I lost. I'm not going out in public like this!" He stamped his foot and crossed his arms—probably not the best thing to do when wearing a dress, especially if you're trying to defend your masculinity. Chekov tried his best to stop the laughing and he managed to get them somewhat under control. He still couldn't wipe the grin on his face though as he walked over to put a comforting hand on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Come on Hikaru. It's not zat bad. Just for a little vhile, zen I promise you kan change out of it."

Sulu tried to stay firm, he really did. But, seriously, who could resist that face? (4) With a long-suffering sigh he nodded his head in defeat. "Fine. But can I at least _not_ wear the wig?"

Chekov nodded enthusiastically—the kid rarely did anything _non_-enthusiastically; he's like a puppy I swear—and leaned up to give Sulu a quick peck on the cheek. Sulu grudgingly smiled at Chekov's excitement. The Russian whiz kid had planned this whole thing, right down to the gossamer strips on his fairy skirt.

Chekov himself sported a very masculine costume, relative to Sulu's outfit anyway. (5) It should have been a crime, really, how the kid could go from cuddly little puppy-eyed cutie to dark and sexy blood-thirsty vampire. Oh yes, it should be illegal to be able to pull of blood-stained fangs_ and_ blond curls. Yes, indeed. Sulu shook his head as Chekov made his way to the bathroom to touch up his creepy goth makeup. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

"OW!"

Kirk leaned forward in his chair clutching his forehead. Bones looked down in him, unaffected by the young captain's pain.

"You wanted me to do this, remember? And don't you dare fault me for making it more painful. I know you and I know the second things start going not-your-way you blame someone else, namely me. Now hold still so I can finish."

He grabbed Kirk's head and heaved him up.

"SHIT!" Kirk let out another pained scream. "Are you sure you doing it fucking right?!"

Bones glared at him. "No I'm not sure! I had to get tips from Uhura and I'm still not sure. Damn it man, I'm a doctor, not a beautician!"

"No you're a Horse Lord." (6) God, even in head-splitting pain Jim Kirk still managed to be a sarcastic bastard. The glare just intensified on the Horse Lord's—ahem excuse me, _doctor's_ face. He swatted Jim upside the head, none too lightly either.

"Shut it Jim. At least I'm not mooning over my first officer and dressing up like him for Halloween like I've got a fetish for pointed ears. Which you definitely do. Don't bother denying it Jim. I saw you eyein' Spock that day in the mess hall. Hell, you could barely keep your glee hidden when that green-blooded hobgoblin started blushing. That's assuming that the green stuff in his veins actually IS blood."

And the good doctor kept on rambling and grumbling. Jim just sat back and let him talk. Bones would seem gruff and harsh, especially to one who didn't know him, but on the inside Jim knew he cared. SO for the time being he simply tuned out the doctor's ranting and focused on himself in the mirror.

Carefully, with skill borne from weeks of practice, he lifted his right eyebrow, then his right. He had to admit that Bones had done a rather nice job on them. Hell, if he didn't know any better he'd say he made a damned fine Vulcan.

He was pulled out of his reverie when Bones called his name. He looked over at his friend who was standing next to the door, head cocked to the side and staring at Jim in a calculating way that made him the tiniest bit uncomfortable.

"Well, are you coming?" He motioned toward the door. As Jim stood up he let a smirk grace his expression.

"Not yet, my friend." He slapped Bones on the shoulder as he passed him. "But I fully intend to."

Bones glared at the empty room in the Captain's wake. That damn kid would be the death of him yet.

* * *

Normally, Starfleet parties weren't really parties at all. They were more like social dinners; visiting dignitaries, high-ranking officials, Very Important Persons. Each attendee was expected to adhere to a strict code of conduct and the atmosphere was more formal than anything. This, however, was not.

The party was located in one of the large halls at the Academy—normally this is where graduates would, well graduate. The academy of course had seen fit to completely deck it out in Halloween decorations, including a rather large Haunted House Walk in the far corner of the room.

Spock's expression didn't waver from the stern mask he always kept up, but that eyebrow did lift momentarily. Vulcan of course had never celebrated Halloween, but he was familiar with some of the holiday's key characteristics. But really, what could possibly be logical about sticking your head into a large bucket of water and attempting to bite an apple? He said as much to Nyota. She laughed and shook her head, the beads in her hair tinkling quietly as they shifted.

"Oh come on Spock, let's go find the captain so he can enjoy seeing himself. The bloody narcissist." Spock reluctantly followed her across the room, very aware of the gazes following them.

They came up to a table, it was already half-full of people and Spock took a moment to survey the others sitting. He saw Chekov busy eating what looked to be fake red brain matter. The young ensign kept looking teasingly at the woman to his left, who was busy glaring back at the young man . Spock did a double take. That was no woman; it was Sulu. Spock's head cocked to the side as he stared at the low neckline of the dress. Pink was certainly not his color.

Commander Scott was on Chekov's other side. At least he presumed it was Scotty. The man had donned what could only be described as very old, very ratty, 20th century medical scrubs; they were covered in dirt and red dye. (7) His face was painted pale and also had dramatic mutilation make up on it. He also had a cardboard sing next to him on the table. It read: "Will work for brains." The eyebrow went up again. Remembering what he could when he had studied Earth's history and pop culture, pock concluded that the engineer's costume was some kind of undead, a zombie.

This brought him to the last occupant at the table. Dr. McCoy's costume seemed to be unique, in that it looked almost authentic. In his reading of Earth, Spock had come across the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien and had taken an immediate dislike to him—the man had insinuated that the Vulcan race was little more than a bunch of elves. The doctor was the spitting image of one of the characters. Distantly, Spock acknowledged that the long hair suited the good doctor.

"Leonard! Wow, you look amazing!" McCoy smiled and dropped into a faux bow

"Why thank you, my Queen." Nyota laughed and waved her hand dismissively.

"Oh get off it." She looked around excitedly for a moment, then brought her gaze back to him. "So, where is he?"

McCoy smirked. "Oh, he went to get drinks. Wait til you see him. Gotta say. I did a damn fine job." He said this last part looking straight at Spock. Spock looked back at him in that particular bland fashion that he always reserved for the doctor. Just then Kirk—in a pretty blue science shirt that was way too tight to be regulation—waltzed up, holding various drinks.

"Sulu, I got your saki, Chekov, no alcohol for you." The ensign pouted. "Sorry. Rules are rules, and while they're made to be broken, that's one I'm not going to break for you. Scotty, your whiskey."

"Bless yeh, Laddie." Kirk shook his head as Scotty immediately downed half the drink and held the glass like it was something prescious. He turned to hand over the last drink in his hands.

"And Bones, I managed to nip you a bit of bourbon. Uhura!" Surprise flitted across Kirk's face as he spotted her and Spock. Surprise, which quickly disappeared and morphed into a smirk as his eyes landed on Spock.

"And who is that fine thing you have with you? Captain James T. Kirk? Why, that's the best costume I've seen all evening. Not counting my own of course." He batted his eyelashes at Spock and struck a rather feminine pose. "What do you think? Do I make a sexy vulcan or what?"

Spock said nothing. In fact he did nothing except stare at Kirk, or rather, Kirk's ears. Seeing the pointed tips on his human friend was a bit of a shock, not an unpleasant one. He cocked his head to the side and gave Kirk a Look.

"If you truly wished to be Vulcan, Captain, you would show some measure of restraint regarding your behavior. Indeed, though the look is aesthetically pleasing, your behavior is not Vulcan and reflects poorly on your ability to stay in character."

Kirk didn't know whether to preen at the subtle complement, or be affronted at the obvious insult. After a moment he wiped the smile off his face, though there was still a gleam in his eye. He kept his tone in check as he spoke, careful to remain deadpanned. "I see. And would you be willing to help me with my… restraint Commander?"

Spock didn't even hesitate, the sly bastard. "Of course, Captain. I know several techniques that would be beneficial to your education of Vulcan behavior."

Kirk nodded slowly; and if you looked close enough, you would see his eyes trail down the length of Spock's body then up again. "We should get right on that. Wouldn't want my look to be incomplete much longer now would we?" A little bit of the smile returned. It was devilish.

Spock nodded his head and offered an arm. "Shall we?" He gestured out of the hall. Kirk lightly touched his arm. As they were heading out he looked back at his good friend Bones.

"Don't wait up doctor. I have a feeling this will take a while." He was grinning like a mad man, Vulcan restraint be damned. Bones glared after them.

"Green-blooded hobgoblin." Beside him Uhura laughed.

"Well they did go faster than I expected."

"Ach, why you say that lass? The Captain's been bursting with nerves to get out of here and find the science officer. I thought they held back a bit longer than _I _expected." Uhura looked over at the Scotsman, who sat there looking at her like he knew something she didn't. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Come on Leonard. My ex has left me for another man who happens to care more about his look than any woman I've ever met. Someone owes me a dance."

And of course, no one can say no to Nyota Uhura. Bones let himself be dragged to the dance floor. But he was not unwilling. Hell, he even managed to keep from stepping on her feet.

* * *

It was amazing that Kirk managed to keep his hands to himself, much less keep his composure, all the way back to Spock's quarters. Even more amazing was that the moment they reached his bedroom Kirk hadn't even taken his shirt off yet. Of course that didn't stop him from taking Spock's off first.

A few steps towards the Vulcan and he was all over him. Spock was no passive form either. Their lips met in the first achingly sweet kiss. Tension that had been building over weeks of dancing around each other—weeks of gazing, weeks of secretly wanting—suddenly broke.

Kirk felt like he was drowning. But not in water. No, this man was too hot; hot like Vulcan. Never had that phrase made sense until now. The lips on his felt like they were burning. Everywhere their skin touched felt like it was burning. It was exquisite.

He couldn't help the moan that came from deep in his throat. Then Spock's hands were everywhere, pulling at his clothes, caressing each inch of skin as it was revealed. It was burning, burning, burning. And he wanted _more_.

Impatient, Kirk pulled back from the kiss to rip Spock shirt off, then his own. He nudged Spock back towards the bed. The Vulcan went without a protest. Kirk latched himself onto Spock's neck and started to bite a line from chin to collarbone.

"Jim… Jim please."

It was the quiet tone in which it was said that made Jim look up. Their eyes met. No words were spoken; none were needed. Spock lay back on the bed, pulling Jim to straddle his hips. Jim couldn't help the keening noise as their cocks met. He also couldn't help it as his hips canted forward, demanding more friction.

"Fuck, Spock." Spock bucked upwards and gripped Jim's hips. Their pace quickened.

"That is. The idea." Spock could barely grunt out his answer. His hands clenched on Jim's thighs, holding him steady as he ground their pelvises together. He shuddered at the feeling of their cocks sliding together in the slick precome and sweat and heat generated by their bodies.

Snap.

Jim's vision went white; at least he thought it did. He really couldn't comprehend anything past _yesmoreSpockyesyesyes._ With a shout his body jerked one last time and he fell forward onto Spock's chest.

They lay there for a moment, breath coming in gasps, bodies too weak to move. A searing hot hand trailed up his thigh to rest on his lower back. He couldn't bring himself to move. Jim mouthed sloppy kisses to Spock's collarbone, too tired to do anything else. He felt Spock sigh beneath him.

"I see you haven't mastered any control at all. You will need further lessons in restraint."

Jim laughed and weakly swatted Spock's chest. "Give me a minute to catch my breath yeah? I'm only a year younger than you. Little Jimmy's not as quick on the uptake as he used to be."

He looked up and was greeted to the sight of the damned eyebrow going up again. "By all means. Give 'Little Jimmy' all the time he needs. We have the rest of the night."

The smile that crossed Jim's face could light a lecture hall. As it was, "Little Jimmy" didn't need _that_ much time to join back in.

* * *

Meanwhile back at the party…

"Pavel! You said I could change into something else!

"Zis is something else!"

"Where are the fucking pants!?"

"…"

"Pavel Andreievich Chekov…"

"Alright, I'm sorry I forgot ze pants! Don't be mad Hikaru!"

"I might as well wear the fairy costume the rest of the night!"

"Vell at least you look good in it!"

"…"

"…"

"Laddies, what you do in your own quarters is yer own business. But please, for the love o' Pete, don't include the rest of us."

* * *

-The End-

* * *

Footnotes: The Costumes

Well, since hates my links... If you want the pictures that accompany this story, they will be listed on my profile. Most likely at the bottom. Its not neccessary, but I like a visual reference sometimes and these pistures were my inspiration for the characters' costumes. plus its got an extra dose of Zachary Quinto, who wouldn't want that? ^_^


End file.
